Like the Shadows Cover Me
by Author of Scifi
Summary: Like the shadows cover me, you're behind me once again, rising from my ecstasy. In the glimpse from a quiet childhood, I recall a mother's smile... nothing needs to be understood, I am free. Kamelot - Like the Shadows. LxLight and KiraxLight.
1. Prologue

_**~Very long Author's Note Time~**_

**_Warning: This is a very long and wholly unnecessary Author's Note, more than half is me trying to justify me not updating. As such, feel free to skip it. Nothing that important except where the idea for this fanfic came from and more justification. And whining. So yeah._**

_**Oh! One thing that you should really know is that in this fic Light and Kira are two seperate entities. Might be good to know.**_

_...okay. Kill me. I know you want to._

_I haven't updated in forever but there is a verrrry (with rolled 'r's, of course) good reason for this. Because I've been working on **this **puppy... *motions downward to said puppy* For a very long time. _

_All right. Let's start at the beginning. If you got this story through an Author Alert or something, then you might want to read this. If you didn't, skip the next paragraph because frankly, it doesn't concern you._

_Now that those whom this does not concern are effectively out of the way... I am **sorry**, so dearly and unbelievably sorry, but I will be dropping Death's Sting and Beyond the Murder Cases for now. I am dropping Beyond the Murder Cases because I lent my book to someone who doesn't understand the meaning of **lend **(there really are no hard feelings, I swear...) and Death's Sting because I'm lazy and slightly lost interest in the wake of THIS baby._

_What exactly IS this baby? A fanfiction that I swear on my LIFE I will finish because I already have 13,000 words of this thing written out. (Oh, by the way, if you were one of those whom the above didn't concern, you may start reading now). _

_THIS baby (...who calls fanfictions babies? Me.) is a fanfiction based off of the album Epica by the illustrious Kamelot. If you do not know Kamelot, listen to Center of the Universe by them and send me a PM saying they aren't amazing. If anyone actually does that, I swear... I probably won't do anything. ._._

_But. Anyway. This is based off of my favorite album by my favorite band because I am just that fangirl (Death Note fangirl to write such a long story without co-authoring it, although, I did have a **lot **of help, and that much of a Kamelot fangirl to actually write a fanfiction based off of their album...). Which means it is loosely based off of a classic German play called Gouthe's Faust. I murdered that spelling. More like ripped it to shreds, stomped it to paste under my feet, stirred it into some tea and drank it, but I'm too lazy to look up the actual spelling of it... but anyway. Classic. German. Play. What part of that doesn't just **reek** of awesome?_

_I'm not trying to elevate my fanfiction in any way, I'm just trying to make you understand why I'm basing an entire fanfiction off of a freaking music album..._

_Murr, a few things you should know... if you've actually, by some chance, read that play, this is based off of the album more than the play, and thus I allowed myself a lot of liberties in not sticking with the original storyline since I only have a vague idea of said storyline from a Wikipedia article..._

_I also added a few things myself, but those can wait for Author's-notes-to-come (see what I did there? Play on my name? Haha... I suck)._

_Also, for those of you who read March of Mephisto, MUCH different. That was very, very, **very **loosely based on a single (maybe two. Yes, it was two) Kamelot song, and didn't fit at all now that I went back and know what the album is about now. This one is based heavily on it, so basically I have to lean on other things to give me plot. But there will be plot! Oh yes. And good plot because it's not mine _*sheepish grin*

_I know, if you actually read through all of that you're TIRED of my drivel and want to see what the hell I've churned out now, but hold your horses, I have to thank my friends mangaluver34 and Jacob for helping me figure out how to make this thing WORK and giving me encouragement (mangaluver, you were basically the binding decision to my indecisibe mind on who the characters would be... I was having **so **much trouble, thanks for that {a lot}, and Jacob, thanks for the compliments, really kept me going when I felt like stopping ^.^ Love you guys). Three main characters. Mephisto, Ariel, Helena. Had to fit it with three Death Note characters. Light, L, and B. _

_...that's right, we have transsexual anime people going on here._

_Alas, it is L who recieves the treatment. Helena Lawliet... what a horrid name. ._._

_I won't go into how **annoying **it was to figure out who was going to be who, and you have no idea how much it pained me to leave B out (and on top of that, Helena doesn't even have that big of a part until later)._

_That's right, those people who Story Alerted me and somesuch (HA. I feel sorry for you and my God-awful updating habits), there is NO B in this story. OK, he comes in later, but as a very minor character... this whole thing revolves around Light. Yep. Writing a fanfic almost strictly about Light. And Kira. In this fanfic they are two different people. Oh Lawdy... I swear this fic will turn me into a raving KiraxLight fangirl _T.T

_...wow. That was a LOT of motherlicking Author's notes. If you read all that, leave a review or something and tell me so I can give you a hug for actually caring enough to go wade through the mashed potatoes that ARE my drivel. *strikes dramatic pose for no reason*_

_By the way, this is the shortest chapter by far. The others are a lot more substantial._

_The Author's note is longer than the actual freaking prologue!_

_It's 1:35 AM, I write long Author's notes early in the morning (anyone get why I keep capitalizing Author? *big stupid grin* ...I know, shut UP, all of you. Judgemental cretins.)_

_GAH listen to me carry on. I shut up now._

_Except to say GET EPICA BY KAMELOT. IT IS AMAZING._

_...*quiets*_

_I'll love you forever if you review..._

_**~a bet made in heaven is a match made in hell~**_

Kira's steps graced the jeweled floor of heaven.

He took in a deep, unnecessary breath - unnecessary since when did angels need to breathe_ - _turning slightly to admire the beauty of God's mantle. Heavenly songs not understood by mere human ears graced the angels senses, causing him to twitch slightly with pleasure. The air itself entangled itself around him, smothering him with the **joy **of his Maker, light bending and swooping above him like actual, breathing entities. His wings trailed behind him on the jewel layered, clear roads that were celestial floors, his extra appendages a nuisance but a pompous representation of the beauty that was him.

Kira, as some had deigned him, one of the highest angels in the rankings of God, filled with a justified pride, a high (perhaps inflated) view of his brethren, all the pleasures of earth, Heaven and Hell at his fingertips. The enticer of men, seducer of cherubim, and maker of Nephilim, a wolf wrapped in a holy, crackling garment of light.

He liked to call himself Mephisto.

He liked the way the name slipped off the tongue, rough and grating, powerful and dominating, the kind of name that tore out of one's throat during a particularly rough instance of torture.

In fact, he was letting the name glide out of his throat now, whispering it softly, blaspheming the clean air of Heaven, his feet almost unconsciously walking towards the goal.

He raised his head, his white hot blonde hair curling around his ears and hanging delicately in his face, his eyes deep pools of a gracing, soft orange light. His face was delicately curved, fairly angled, his lips perfectly shaped, curved in a perpetual smirk-like smile. He was beautiful.

And he was about to make a bet with God.

He nodded solemnly at the two cherubim who kneeled by golden stairs, four-winged, four faced, spectacular beings that would take the breath away from any mortal.

Mephisto thought they were rather annoying, what with their constant singing and keening toward their Master. These two, Jacobus and Amya, were particularly smug, in a way that just rubbed Mephisto wrong, but he did his best to ignore them as he treaded past, especially ignoring their singing. "Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, est senior Deus Omnipotens quisnam eram quod est quod est advenio!" An interesting derivative of Latin, similar to the original with a few grammar tweaks. In English; "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!"

He strode up the stairs, taking care his wings trailed slightly above the walkway. He had considered flying, but there was no need to rush things; after all, in Heaven, there was no time, just eternal bliss.

Mephisto spat at the golden path before him. Eternal bliss, something he had grown quite sick of. He was tired of being strong armed by an arrogant God, who had all rights to be so, he supposed, but Mephisto decided he also had rights, and as such his compulsion was justified.

Light. Or Ariel, depending on what name the man wanted to use. Both names unusual, one a diminished antonym for the glory of the heavens, the other one reminiscent of some mythical water maiden, neither seeming fitting for God's favorite. But God's favorite he was, with his insatiable lust for knowledge. Knowledge of God. The kind of knowledge that would either bring him closer to heaven or knock him on his backside into hell. The kind of knowledge Mephisto could twist, bringing the boy to his knees, begging for the satisfaction of the desires Mephisto would bring upon him, every desire you could imagine; God would not be enough for the child.

Wasn't that what all humans were, ultimately? Children?

Children, children, children. To be manipulated and reprimanded at the whim of those higher up, so to speak.

_Do I ever hate humans._

Such a human sentiment in itself, though.

He shook off the thoughts and kept walking, feeling and hearing rather than seeing he was close to the footrest of God. Not his footstool, his footrest. His footstool was earth, poor pathetic planet.

Jesus Christ. Literally Jesus Christ. Sitting at the right side of God, glorious in appearance and countenance, Lord over all, Exalted Messiah, Emmanuel.

Personally, Mephisto thought he was a waste, never understanding why on earth (no pun intended) God would **ever **want to create a being solely for human interaction, even if that being was an extension of himself. Humans were so dull. It was a joy to manipulate their weak minds though.

God had cast him out of heaven because of his insolence. Thus, he would make it so that God's favorite neither would be able to enjoy the splendor of his glory.

"Greetings, Lord!" Mephisto's voice carried strongly through the ethereal atmosphere, to the ears of God.

* * *

Mephisto left the throne room, feeling smug, confident, noticing the eyes of angels upon him. The news of the bet with God had already been instilled in all of the other-worldly residents of Heaven, Hell, and earth, and all eyes were now locked on Ariel and the demon Mephisto.

After all, winning a soul was a spectator sport.


	2. Center of the Universe

**Center of the Universe**

A brunette boy and a dark haired beauty, laying together in their bed, both of their eyes closed, their breathing steady, the silence almost smothering. No crickets, birds, none of the normal sounds of human activity. The world had frozen in a hot, stuffy corner of time.

Odd enough, it was the silence that woke Light. Without the usual cadence of crickets, birds and humans to keep his mind flowing in its orderly ticking pattern, he awoke, conscious of the heavy silence before he even truly woke. One thing he loathed was silence, because he thought it was an impossibility. If silence existed, he was wrong.

He hated being wrong.

The soft breathing of Helena Lawliet next to him was the only sound to break the silence._ Its at least broken by that, thank God_. The sentiment was more appropriate than he knew.

He glanced at the sleeping beauty next to him, lying on her back under the covers, only her head and upper torso visible, her arms hidden somewhere underneath the blankets… her obsidian hair curling gracefully over her shoulders, some of it falling into her face, not at all disorganized, more like someone had crept in at night and had arranged every piece of hair that now cascaded down the front of her face. A perfectly sculpted nose, as if a carpenter had spent hours refining every detail, full lips, but not overly so, perfect milky skin, a delicate form, eyes that when open were deep, dark pools of a black beyond black; the kind that drew you in… She was perfect. It wasn't only her looks. She was as innocent and good-hearted as they came, yet she wasn't naive, she was intelligent, profound. She was everything Light could have ever asked for.

Yet she wasn't.

His mind was ever searching, ever looking for more questions, answers to the questions the answers brought up… an ever ending yet ever looping circle that left him ever searching and ever uncontent.

He had the woman of his dreams, but that wasn't enough.

He had one of the highest positions in the province, but that wasn't enough.

He was one of the richest patrons in the country, but that wasn't enough.

He thirsted for knowledge. Not because knowledge was power, but because knowledge was **knowledge**.

Perhaps his want for knowledge was fueled by an undercurrent of egotism, but he would never admit this.

Light set his hands on the windowsill of the one window in the room, unlatching and opening it, leaning out to let the night air wash over him. It was eerily still, there was even the absence of wind, as if the earth was holding its breath, dreading a certain event. The colors beyond his eyes were silver, black, white; everything seemed suspended in a droplet of time.

Running his hand through his hair, straightening its mussed tangles, he let a few strands fall between his eyes. The kiss of moonlight on his face made him appear almost angelic. He let out a soft sigh, one of contentment, although he was anything but content.

A whisper. An odd, out of place whisper that Light couldn't quite place. It was human yet not fully materialized… outside of himself yet not quite as removed as the voice of, say, Helena. A few words that eventually formed a sentence, rising in his mind like a Pegasus.

…_.what secrets does this place hold from you…?_

…_why do you stay…?_

…_why are you content with reexamining every insignificant detail of every significant piece of knowledge when you could learn so much more…?_

…_why do you leave your soul in the hands of God…?_

And the last one.

…_why do you stay because of a single woman…?_

Light's hands gripped the windsill tightly in a death grip, the voice made him want to heave. It was a hiss, a condescending hiss, a condescending hissing malice laced monologue that tore delicately into Light's mind.

He was tempted to speak back at the voice, but he knew it would be in vain. It wasn't human, of course, it wasn't God, of course, so that left a demon or himself. Light wasn't even sure if he believed in _God_, much less demons, thus these thoughts had been summoned by his subconscious to the conscious… yes, that makes sense, doesn't it? Contemplating the odd silence, his mind had decided that a malevolent hiss was a fitting way to break the silence, and so he heard it. There was no reason to fear the voice.

Or heed it.

He was suddenly very tired. He retracted from his reverie and the window, turning back to the bed, staring directly into Helena's eyes. She was sitting, staring at him. "Light?"

"..Helena." The single word calmed him, but his mind still wandered, as it always did, to the knowledge he did not know, or rather, its absence.

She did not say anything, merely looked Light up and down, acknowledging his restless demeanor. Her eyes asked the question. _Are you OK?_

Light shrugged, climbing back into the bed next to her. "I'm restless. More restless than usual."

"You are _always_ restless, with your insatiable want to understand _everything._" She stated her next sentence emotionlessly, except that she placed her hand on Light's cheek. "It will be the death of you."

Light raised his hand and placed it over Helena's, pressing it lightly against his face. "And we fear Death why?" He removed Helena's hand from his face and kissed it gently before releasing her, smiling mischievously. "If we know all in Death, I am surprised we are not speeding to her embrace."

"You might be surprised." Helena's voice was removed.

"With?"

"How uncontent knowledge can leave you."

It was hot, stuffy, and loud. As all bars seemed to be. Full of unsavory characters, bumbling idiots and hedonists, the occasional innocent who wanted to try drowning his troubles in alcohol, and was actually _surprised_ at the amount of grotty gits present. You could pick those unfortunate souls out right away.

Light, or Ariel (Ariel was his common name… Light was one reserved for those close to him) was one of the few who didn't fit into any of the categories. He was there to pick up rumors, odd tidbits of information that he could follow up on. This was how desperate he was for knowledge. He longed for it like most long for comfort; he loathed comfort if it meant the detriment of his mentality.

Very rarely did Ariel ever pick up anything worth knowing in this… establishment. But today, there were traders. Their value did not come from their goods, but rather what they heard while retrieving their goods. They loved to regale tales they had heard during their travels, and it were these tales that had Ariel on pins and needles as he shoved through the thugs, drunks and pleasure-seekers.

Any dimwit could tell who the traders were. Two people sitting in the middle table, gems, jewelry and practical items displayed almost haughtily in front of them, bags lying in wait near their feet, tired and worn appearance, but their eyes alight with the fire of sobriety. They couldn't afford to drink and thus, in their foggy state of mind, be swindled of their precious goods. Swords by their sides were a warning to the many potential pickpockets, and their ready stances and wandering gazes were further discouragements. One had black, wild hair, a toothy grin, and gothic makeup, long silver earrings dangling. The other was a female, dressed in all white… white skin, purple designs that trailed down her jaw, amber, almost yellow eyes.

Both had the aura of knowledge.

Ariel finally managed to shove his way through the crowd, extending a hand to the white-haired woman (he didn't look old enough to be an adult). "Greetings traders. Ariel. Your name would be…?"

The female stared at the hand for a few seconds before taking it in a deceivingly strong grip. "Rem. I accept your greetings with grace. If you are interested in our goods, please talk to Ryuk," she said, bowing her head briefly to her partner.

"I have no interest in your material goods, ma'am, but rather, what knowledge you have to offer me."

"Knowledge? We have plenty of that sir, and that is something I would be more than willing to help you with. What would you like to know? Medicine, advice for love, the mysteries of the heavens, wonder of the Falls of Uther…?"

"Any rumors you have to offer about places away from here." Ariel quickly cracked his neck. "I've spent my life getting my own little corner of the world to cough its secrets up into my hands. It has, and the more I search the more disappointed I get with my findings."

Rem's lifeless eyes sparked. "And you do not leave because why?" She leaned forward slightly. "A woman?"

Ariel was about to deny that he would stay for a singular purpose when he was so incontent but… he realized then that if he didn't have Helena he _would _have left. "…yes, a woman. A woman I love. With more wit than both of you put together," he added, as if he had to justify his infatuation.

"Is she worth giving it all up?" Ariel turned when the other man spoke, a smirk on his painted face. "Why do you stay because of a single woman?"

_ The exact words of the faceless ghost last night… _"Because she is a single woman I love."

Ryuk gave a barking laugh and turned away, resuming his discussion with one of the bar patrons, who looked quite tipsy, by the way.

"Ignore him. More of a self-centered hedonist you will not find," Rem quipped, her white hair framing her snowy face in an odd contrast of colorless shades.

There was a silence between them before Rem looked him in the eyes, her orbs capturing Ariel's hungry ones. "Do you enjoy the dark, Ariel?"

Odd question. "…I do."

"Why?"

"The time of reality where the true nature is revealed, all of the gaudy inflections hidden under a welcoming cover of night, everything bathed in silvery black, the colors that danced silenced and brought to their knees before the unrelenting judgment of dark… a time for mystery to flourish and a time for secrets and spells to be reevaluated."

"Spells?" Rem smirked slightly.

"Do not all spells gain potency under a full, unrelenting moon?"

"Not all… some gain more potency under pure black." Rem's eyes meandered from Ariel's, roving over the chaos that was the bar. Throw a bunch of people into a room with alcohol and expensive goods, what else would you get?

"I loathe this place. Come with me outside to the woods and our tent… there I shall show you true mystery. You think you have knowledge? You know nothing." With that frontal statement, Rem stood, seemingly disappearing into the crowd, giving curious Ariel no choice but to follow.

_A reflection of himself was staring at him, blood dripping from its fingertips, crimson wings trailing behind him, red eyes and carmine hair, the rest of him shrouded in obsidian…_

_ The same figure walking down moonlight, this time, his hair is a hot white-yellow, his wings the same hue, an easy smile on his face…_

_ …a wet tongue running up Ariel's neck, causing him to jerk with pleasure, a hiss caressing his ears… 'any form of lust in you will tremble at my touch'…._

_ …the same being, minus the wings, holding up a red wineglass and tipping it back, one single drop running down his neck…_

_ ….himself, screaming…_

_ …then broken, bleeding and dead on the edge of a black river…_

Ariel pulled his hand back and gasped. It wasn't a simple gasp, it was a sharp, painful inhalation of air that sent a lance of pain through his lungs, as if he had just been killed and then brought back to life, desperate for air. The images had shot through his head in a few seconds, but one image was very vivid…

_…then broken, bleeding and dead on the edge of a black river…_

Rem's eyes blinked slowly as she flicked one of his cards over, the card floating lazily before it settled near Ariel's foot. It was a broken skull. Ariel himself was sitting cross legged, his hand still shaking above the book… _it was just a book….!_

"You saw something?" The woman was shuffling the cards.

"…I… I did…"

Rem shifted slightly, settling into a comfortable position, the kind you sat it when you knew you'd be talking for a while. "Few actually do. I don't." She dealt five cards and stared at them, then scooped them up. "By the way, the cards are for show. They mean nothing. An easy way to fool the weak of mind, but in reality, nothing more than fancy pieces of paper. But the book…." For the second time that night, the mysterious woman's voice trailed off. "The book is a different story. It was found in a shrine dedicated to the demon Mephisto. A step below Lucifer, that one. The cult itself was made by the demon himself during the time of Noah. Well, that obviously didn't work considering the Flood, so he tried again later. One specific group that spoke an obscure language after the Tower of Babel was isolated by this demon and he worked on dedicating the people to himself. Not as aggressive as Lucifer, he didn't attempt to equate himself with God… rather, he wanted a place in the Bible, and since God would not give it to him, he started his own religion, with his own book. The cult failed miserably, falling apart when the followers turned on each other because of Mephisto's teachings; the teachings that encouraged you to discard morals for your own gain, eventually driving his followers to kill each other to gain his favor, but not to scorn God specifically, like Satanists. This book…" Rem stroked it gently, "is the only copy of it that I know of. Personally, I haven't been able to translate it, but I'm not sure I want to. If its teachings are that bad that they would drive a whole race to kill each other…" A shudder passed through the young female. "Anyway, the beginning is written in Latin, oddly enough, which I read very well. It basically says that if you are chosen by the demon, you will be able to see certain things if you touch the book. Two people have been able to in my experience. One committed suicide afterwards, the other went on to become one of the worst human beings I could imagine… slaughtering innocents and bathing in their blood to keep himself pure for his Demon, violating _children _to please himself….. I'd rather not get into all his atrocities."

"…then… why show _me _the book?"

"Because I sense that God is with you, but I also sense the demon's presence. I am oddly attune to the supernatural. I felt you should see what the book has to offer. Therefore, I showed you."

Ariel was still shaking, the images so convoluted and disturbing…

"Ariel. I know you lust for knowledge, but there are some things you absolutely should _not _know."

"…I…" Ariel wanted to leave the tent as quickly as possible. The encounter had left him violated. "Do I owe you anything…?"

"Only a promise. I only showed you because I felt God _wanted _me to show you. But that does not mean you follow whatever carnal instinct this book aroused. It _does _something to people, and if you allow its stirrings to take root, you will be consumed. By it or Mephisto, I do not know, but you will regret it. So promise me that you will _not _heed whatever urge you have right now."

Ariel was shaking. He hated the book, he wanted to burn it, rip it apart, throw it into the water and let it be carried away… no, don't let the clarity of the waters be muddied with its filth, bury it far, far beneath the ground, dig to hell and throw it in one of the fiery pits to be consumed, and may Mephisto suffer the same fate.

_What I am about to show you… has affected only two people. Both suffered dearly._

_ ….from touching a _book_?_

_ Do you doubt me?_

_ I know a lot about medicine, Rem. Allergic reaction, or…_

_ No, nothing like that. _

_Rem, I'm sorry, but there is no way _I _of all people will respond…_

Ariel had an open mind. He was willing to admit when he was wrong. And he had been deadly, dearly wrong about the book. Most people would have stayed in denial, but Ariel couldn't doubt the visions nor the _feelings_…

He turned to Rem, took a deep, steadying breath, and answered the question.

"No, Rem, I cannot promise that."

With that, he simply turned and left.


	3. Farewell

_Meep, I haven't updated in a while have I? Even though I have about 20,000 more words of this thing written... sorry, when I get no reviews I get discouraged (not so subtle to hint to review, but it's true to the point of being pathetic...) Anyway. I update now. And to make up for the murderously long AN in the first chapter, this one shall be murderously short. Have fun. ^.^_

**Farewell**

_He saw himself walking on a path made of clear red glass… it seemed that red was an enduring theme for all of his visions and dreams. The color of love. The color of blood. Color of death. _

_Red glass… it appeared too fragile to hold a feather, much less Ariel's weight, but it did as he tread cautiously. Most of his dreams were more subtle than this, but the time for subtlety seemed to be in a different life._

_One side, pure light. The other, pure black. Their extremes split by red glass. An endless road of thin red glass._

_Ariel dreamed, of course. It's impossible to be such a knowledge seeker and _not _dream. But this one was different. For one, he knew it was a dream. Most of the time he didn't. Two, it did not involve anything definite, like most of his dreams did… he wasn't one for symbolism, even in dreams, unless the symbols were obviously justified._

_He kept thinking he saw some figure, a figure that seemed familiar, reminiscent of himself. He was unable to recognize that the figure was in fact the demon he had seen in his previous vision induced by the book. He just kept walking._

_He walked._

_And walked._

_And walked._

_No change at all, and if it hadn't been for the sound of his feet hitting the crystalline road and the slight burn in his legs, he wouldn't have thought he had moved. Such… monotony was unheard of in his dreams._

_He felt an urge to jump. What did it matter, it was a dream? Anything to break the ennui, even if it meant plummeting through pitch black, or blinding light, depending on where he decided to jump._

_Ariel turned the dark; he found comfort in the dark, in the placating silence of its arms. He almost jumped, but stopped himself. _Are you insane?

"And the problem with insanity is what?" _A question from outside his body, but there was no one else around._

"By definition insanity is a problem!"

"By definition insanity is something beyond normal. And you hate normal. Jump."

_Ariel took in a breath, the voice compelling beyond human means, ready to jump…_

"Ariel!"

_Ariel turned just as he fell, watching blankly…_

_As Helena reached out in vain to save him…_

Ariel jerked straight up in bed, panting heavily. It was dark. Dusk, actually, that time between day and night and night and day, where black and white are blurred in an almost seamless gray.

The dream hadn't scared him, no, but he couldn't find out why he was sweating, nor why he was shaking uncontrollably. He only knew he shouldn't have taken the book.

He slid it out from under his pillow, running one hand down its spine. Leather bound, plain, in surprisingly good condition for such an ancient tome. You wouldn't guess the power that hummed in its covers.

Helena wasn't with him tonight; she was staying at a friend's house, Jullian. She had just had a baby and was in need of company and help. Helena, being good hearted and caring, had offered, leaving Ariel dangerously alone with his churning thoughts.

_Promise me you will not heed any urge you have right now…_

…_I can't promise you that…_

Why hadn't he promised? Was it so hard to promise not to leave the one you love?

_Unless that love isn't enough._

He thirsted for knowledge. He needed knowledge. He was a leech, when removed or depleted of his lifeblood he would shrivel up and die.

His comfort wasn't enough.

His wealth wasn't enough.

His love wasn't enough.

His God wasn't enough.

He had to do this. Follow the haunting call of the book. Besides, he doubted it really was Mephisto anyway. Ha. Demon. What a joke. It was his mind telling him that he should leave, and he would encounter sights like no others; hardships would come, yes, but what's a little suffering in the greater pursuit of life?

….he had to do this. Everything, every aspect of life had been egging him on to make the hard choice, to leave behind all that was comfortable and to search for truth. He would return with more truth in him than he could hold, he would return glorious, and would sweep Helena into his arms, and finally satisfy her every whim with the new deep information he will be cradling in his heart. Simply stated, stripped of all rhetoric, Ariel was leaving because he was tired of living.

Monotonous reality.

He just now realized how truly incontent he was with his life. No physical pleasures could sate him, not even the emotion pleasure Helena provided. Only the satisfaction of knowledge.

Light's hand was resting on the book as if it was a lifeline. Why Nate had allowed him to take it after such desperate urgings against it, he didn't know. _Maybe he actually realized that the book is helpful and not my bane…. _

He doubted it though. He felt an odd rage whenever he thought of Nate, how he tried to get him to swear away his destiny… as if he had a _right… _

_You showed me the book, you idiot, yet you act as if my choices are not your fault, you only did it because 'God' asked you to? Fool. _At that moment, he hated Nate. Trying to hold him down…

_And he used _Helena _as an excuse… _But the excuse was viable, which shook Ariel to his core. Was he really throwing his life away for one person?

_I am. I _was.

And in _that _instant, his hand resting on the book, he hated Helena. In that instant, he swore away everything he knew and loved. He would journey, he would find what he searched for, and he would come back _victorious._

_I will hold the world by its throat._

The change the book had brought about in him was sudden, dramatic, and wrenching. His entire state of mind was shifted, darkness clouded his thoughts, and he became infused with a lust for power. It wasn't just about knowledge anymore. It was about breaking the chains of morality and love he had placed on his own hands.

He could barely stand how _disgusting _he was. Squeamish maggot filled with indecision… he wouldn't do this for Helena, he would do this for _himself_, and Helena be damned if she would presume to stop him.

A sense of finality settled over him, and he saw no reason to tell Helena or anyone else, for that matter, of his choice. He didn't need chained idiots telling him their own, stupid opinions.

He considered taking all of the money and letting Helena fend for herself, but he quickly decided against it; he did still care for Helena, just not the bondage she represented. Besides, an act like that might be a sufficient cause for a warrant for his arrest. Thus, he grabbed a bag that hooked on his back, grabbed the purse that held their money, emptied about half into his own personal purse, and put it in the bottom of the bag. After grabbing some necessities; non-perishable food, clothes, a few canteens of water, and, of course, the book, he exited their house to the stable where two horses stood solemnly, as if they knew one of them was about to leave forever.

He briefly considered leaving a note, then decided against it. He had to get out on the road as soon as possible before he lost his nerve. Bridling and saddling his white stallion, he climbed up onto the steed, allowing himself on last shallow gaze at his house and the surrounding village.

Then he galloped off down the back roads, barely acknowledging the familiar surroundings.

God awaited him at the horizon.

He had been riding for hours. He hadn't exited familiar territory yet, that would wait until he after he had ridden across the sea to somewhere _far _away. He would ask for council before he left, of course, from the locals of the seaport, but ultimately he would be going into completely unfamiliar territory, where the very air spoke of the unknown.

Yet he felt _free_. Riding on his horse away from all things safe and restricting, leaving behind all traces of his old life, almost wiping his mind of any memory of it. But there was one thing that kept nagging him.

_What about your Lord? The one you dedicated all your knowledge to? _The thought came less from his own mind and more from his conscience… a while ago he would have thought it was God telling him, but he highly doubted that now. Everything that had happened to him could be explained through logic… Logic was humanity's best weapon.

In fact, he wasn't sure if there even was a God anymore. If there was a God, and the God was asking him to go back (he did feel that odd urging even now, out of place and annoying), He certainly didn't have his best interests in mind. Why should he serve a deity like that?

So he severed his ties with even God, and as soon as he rejected his old Lord, he felt the voice cease. Not because that there actually _was _a God, of course… because he had made a conscious decision to ignore the voice, which, of course, came from his own being.

…rejecting God was the final cut, final incision. He was bled out of all old ideals, all because of this one book.

He was ready to follow a new religion.

And he wasn't going to let anything stop him.


	4. Opiate Soul lll Edge of Paradise

_Hello! Yay, new chapter! OK, this one will be a tad bit different. You will notice, at the beginning there are two poems. The poems are interludes in the album that mark an undefined period of time where important events take place. Just in case you don't get the really vague symbolism me and my fellow poet (Jacob) use, I'll give a brief explanation of what happens in Opiate Soul part 1 and 2. _

_Part 1, basically when good old Ariel sails and contemplates life as he does so with a voice outside of Ariel's talking about reality, demonstrated archaicly with the metaphors and crap. Not a solid event, but it takes 'place' during a solid event. Part 2 isn't any physical event, but Ariel's state of mind crossed with an overreaching fate mixed with foreshadowing. I wrote part 1, Jacob wrote part 2, and his part owns mine ._

_Enjoy!_

_**Opiate Soul**_

_**Part 1**_

_Riding on the waves of time,_

_Who can tame the vast sea?_

_Who can reign over the erosion of reality?_

_As the sea carves trenches in the earth,_

_So does time carve swathes in idealism._

_Just as the sea goes with no concerns for men,_

_Time will also exact its own veracity on us._

_When a wave crashes down on you,_

_Be reminded of how time will eventually erase._

_**Part 2**_

…_.can you see me now?_

Wander.

_Caught between worlds?_

Torn.

_Dark against Light,  
An all out fight,_

_Twixt good,_

_Twixt bad,_

_Twixt the things I never had._

Dusk.

_Hell's flame, just a game,_

_Dance with death, play the dame._

Occult.

_Lost and trapped and floating here,_

_Separate from all that's dear._

Regret.

_Search for truth, finding lies,_

_Once I find, pieces die._

_Pieces of, my shattered soul,_

_Look around, for my own role._

Broken.

_Seek to find, but never will._

_Not this life, not yet at least.._

_Continue the journey,_

_Twixt dark and Light._

**Edge of Paradise**

_Ariel leaned back and raised his head, murmuring softly toward the ceiling, his hands tracing a pentagram in front of him. Easy to do this with his eyes closed now. He gasped slightly when the effects of the drug he had taken began to take hold, his vision clouded even behind his closed eyelids. He saw bright, colored spots, and he groaned at the initial pain, then sighed, releasing the negative energy._

_His hands hovered over the pentagram, the book sitting next to him, open, notes scrawled in the margins. He opened his eyes and watched as the blurs before him took form, laughing in pleasure and crying out in pain, Ariel himself shivering slightly, his extremities tingling with an erratic energy. "Kiraaa…." He let the name fall from his mouth like a pleasured moan, once again pleading the dark angel to make an appearance._

Ariel was laying back on his bed. The memory came back to him like a dream, but the pentagram to his right and the open, scrawled in book next to him disproving his theory. It was always like this when he woke up from one of the ceremonies…

Ariel had left his home several years ago. He boarded a ship and traveling to somewhere called Napaj. It was a small, removed island colony with one megalopolis in the center, near the main water supply. The rest of the towns were small and spaced far apart along the various rivers that stemmed from the main water supply roughly in the middle of the island.

Ariel had chosen an island because their cultures tended to not reflect the mainland's so much… they develop their own unique tastes, tastes that Ariel was longing for. He spent the first two years just wandering the island, getting to know it's basic heritage and people, reveling in everything _new _he was learning.

It was in his third year that he was starting to become dissatisfied. The deeper you went into the islands history, the more it reflected where he had come, since the diversity arose a few generations after first settling the island. Thus, the more he worked to understand new things, the more familiar things became. He faced a problem. He could leave the island and go somewhere else, of course, but he had grown an odd sort of attachment to the people.

He had underestimated how much he would miss Helena and his friends, the comfort of home. Almost every night he dreamed about his old life, almost, but not quite, regretting his decision to leave. Thus, the attachments he had formed with the new culture to distract him from his old ties. When that was insufficient… then he would turn to the book.

That book was perhaps the only thing stopping him from returning to his old life… whenever he touched it, the emotions he felt right before he left would surge again, and he would be disgusted at his weakness, that he would even be _tempted _to turn back to his old life.

However, his _new _life hadn't been as satisfying as he had hoped. When he did reach that wall around two years, he nearly committed suicide in frustration, and for a while considered becoming a killer…. the taste of _blood _might sate him if nothing else.

He restrained that urge for some time though, partly because some form of morality was still in him and partly because if he was caught he would rather die than spend a lifetime in the prisons (the people on the island had no death sentence). Instead… he turned to the occult. The taboo.

Drugs.

Ever since he had come to the island he had become acutely aware of the dark undercurrent, underground, if you will, of demon worshippers, blood drinkers and cult members that populated the smaller villages. He had been exposed to it in almost copious amounts, but he had always brushed it aside as a darker mirror of the God he had left.

All of that changed the first time he tried the drugs.

Even if the religion wasn't real, the _drugs… _the drugs were certainly real. Real and pleasurable and intensely desirable…. That first taste marked his downward spiral, his back- and-forths between neutrality and falling into the dark.

It had been a few weeks ago when he had stopped resisting the call of the clean and succumbed to the drugs. If not the religion, the drugs. But the drugs were part of the religion. The cult. The demon worshipping. So he took both in stride.

For about a year it had been strictly about the drugs and the high they brought… but later he decided he would look more into the actual religion. To get the drugs he used to pretend to participate and to agree with the teachings of certain villages who taught various cultic religions, but about a year after his drug 'stealing', he started to actual listen to the sermons. What he found was that they were preaching a gospel of self-satisfaction, violence, and a twisted kind of love. He found the teachings invigorating, and so refreshingly different from the gospel of Christ, he decided to actively participate in the religion. When the village folk learned he actually _had _the book of Mephisto, he was heralded as a prophet, and he was welcomed with open arms to preach his story about how he came upon the book and how he forsook everything binding for his own pleasure, although it had been tenuous… his story was one of a gamble gone incredibly right (or horribly wrong)… and how he had found the Satanists, Kirans (followers of the oral teachings of Kira, or Mephisto), and the Utheranians (whose teachings were more centered around nature, but with the same basic cores as the other two) and how he found satisfaction in their drugs.

He was now a full-blown savior to these people, and due to his work he had brought people in from the city to his own little corner of the island. Literally his, he was honored as a king. He had every village military force at his beck and call, and the temple of Mephisto had been transformed into his palace by _his _demand.

He had lost his appetite for knowledge. He now only had an appetite for the drugs. For his religion.

For the power.

For his religion, he put on the guise of a savior, even a god, and… he tried to convert. He was a roaming lion, preying on the alone and bringing him to his side. When they refused him… he would slaughter them and drink their blood. Bathe in it and boil his food in it. That is what he had done at first… now, as powerful as a dictator, as hailed _as _a god, he had a vicegrip over more people than the governors in the more civilized cities. He no longer went after individuals, but people groups. Entire cultures, entire villages, subverting them or destroying them.

For all that was dark and evil, he had fallen completely.

Two things hadn't changed. One, his dreams. He kept having the same dream about him walking on the thin glass road, falling, and at the last moment turning and seeing Helena reaching for him while a faceless voice chuckled above him…

And two, thoughts of Helena herself. Whenever there was a moment of calm, Light would remember who he left and why he left her, and would feel a tinge of regret that he wouldn't be coming back to her. Then he would stroke the book and realize it had definitely been for the best that he had left the girl… left his chains behind.

Ariel was once again having those thoughts… those blasphemous thoughts of returning to Helena. He crawled towards the book, still weak from his recent ritual, and rested his hand on it.

Pain shot through his arm, cascading past his shoulder, up into his head and down his spine, causing him to gasp and arch his back, the long, filed nails on his fingers digging into the leather book cover. He could barely see, but the visions in his mind were as vivid, maybe even more so, as sight.

_That same angel he kept dreaming about…. White hot hair, glowing amber eyes, like Ariel in every other aspect, lounging on a scarlet divan, holding a crystalline glass filled with the same carmine liquid Ariel had seen the very first time he had glimpsed the angel. The divan was only one piece of furniture in the extravagant hall, chandeliers swaying very slightly, causing shadows to dance around them. A long dining table made of exquisite polished yew was behind them, empty regal chairs silent and stately on its sides. The walls were garnished with more embellishments than Ariel could count…. Colorful shields, stained glass windows, decorative swords made completely of gold… it was nothing elegant…. It was extravagant, almost to the point of garish, very, very impressive and almost blinding. But the most blinding aspect of the entire scene was the angel himself, who was minus his wings._

_"How are you enjoying yourself so far, Ariel?" His voice was deep and smooth, almost seductive, but not sinister…. Sickeningly welcoming._

_Ariel was speaking, but he wasn't… he couldn't control the words that came out of his mouth. "It's been wonderful, Kira. I thank you for allowing me to enter here."_

_"So." Kira, as the angel's name was, took a long drink from his glass, his eyes closed from bliss. A whiff of the smell of the wine wafted over to Ariel, and he felt almost dazed from the amazing scent. It wasn't just sweet-smelling, it was _intoxicating_, beyond mere smell. _

_"Have you decided to accept the contract?"_

And that's when Ariel's subconscious instinct wrenched his hand from the book, as well as the rest of his body. When he was finally fully aware of his surroundings, he was lying on his back with a tremendous headache, the hand that had touched the book tingling as if it had been asleep.

Unlike the first time, he could remember the vision clearly… down to every detail; the out of place hair that had been hanging in front of the angel's eye, splitting it into two amber half-circles, the small nick on one of his ears, the way his a single drop of wine had escaped his greedy lips, dripping down his chin and clinging still as it rolled down his neck.

He was shaking, shivering… the night was warm but he felt cold, even as he sat on the fine sheets on his bed. The kind of cold that seemed to slice into your lungs, a whipping icy wind that didn't come from nature. He felt undeniably attracted to the angel… Kira… the one he had pledged his life to (in a religious sense, not any sort of binding contract)… _am I truly a prophet, that he would reveal himself to me like this? _

He was frightened. Very frightened. The angel hadn't been sinister, no, and it hadn't been anything akin to a nightmare (like the nightmares the drugs sometimes gave to him), but that an angel… no, that a demon would actually reveal itself to him and leave a lasting impression, unlike the first time… it disturbed him.

True, he was now officially late to a gathering he had sworn to attend, but he figured now that it was inconsequential. Not like he would lose any respect for not attending one meeting, he could always say he was enthralled in a particularly rewarding meditative experience, and he would be praised all the more... but this vision… it required thought. And not the stationary kind offered by meditation.

He stood, his legs feeling like the lighter branches at the top of trees as they were being swept by the wind. He had to get out of that stuffy temple…

Grabbing something before he left, he ran down the marble halls and out the back door, into the woods, where he felt the call of Mephisto.

Barely able to stay on his own two feet. Circling the dead firepit in the middle of the camp, avoiding the book which he had set down on the east side of the camp, he attempted to regain his strength… he had ran for a few hours, far away from the town and the temple and the _people_, with nothing but a bag and the book… first thing he had done was set up a fire, but it had burned out.

….he turned to the bag. He didn't know why he had brought it, but he felt the compulsion to open it now.

Untying the drawstrings, he reached his hand into the bag, his fingers brushed the the cold smoothness of polished topaz. He felt the small gold chain, and allowed his fingers to follow its cool twisted path before actually pulling it out and staring at it. It reflected his face back at him, distorted… it was his marriage necklace. The one Helena had picked especially for him, promising their engagement… the marriage would have been in a few months after Ariel left. If he hadn't left, he would have been sleeping with his beautiful wife now… or at a nighttime activity with the rest of the town…

He didn't quite know why he had brought it with him in the first place; it represented a tie back to his old bondage, but the night he had left, he had been weak, entertaining doubts. It was understandable why he had taken the brooch to start with.

But as Ariel now set the gem in his hand and ran his thumb across it, feeling the icy smoothness of it, he couldn't help but wonder why he was reestablishing the tie… the tie to his lover…

Almost without thinking, he snapped the gold chain, then he snapped it again… snapping each half once more before letting the eight pieces of gold fall to the dirt. He grabbed the topaz, hooked his fingers in the four shallow indents on each side, and wiggled it free from where it was held, then let it fall to the ground with the holder. He stomped the pieces almost blindly into the dirt, filled with an inexplicable anger, then turned and raced out of the cave, ignoring the branches that clawed at him.

He ran.

As he ran, he cursed.

As he ran, he wept.

_~Composed gold rain, wash my grief away~_


	5. Wander

_Yay, flashback chapter! Something a bit more lighthearted (to start off) to counteract the last chapter... both for the writer and the reader. Aaanyway, here we get a more in depth look at Helena herself, who I have officially decided is only loosely based off of L because it's hella hard to keep him/her/whatever in character, especially the younger version . But that's OK. Sorry about the short chapter too, I wrote this in eager anticipation of the next chapter (for those of you who know the album, Desent of the Archangel, hehe). Also sorry if it seems like it doesn't really fit or if it doesn't flow well, but I thought there needed to be a bit of bakground info..._

_So enjoy. Maybe review? Pleash?_

**Wander**

_Children's laughter was perhaps one of Helena's favorite sounds. She lay on her back in the grass, hands hooked behind her head, the smell of flowers wafting through the air, a peaceful smile on her face, her eyes closed. Her almost white skin looking amazing against the deep emerald grass, and her raven hair sprawled around her ears and shoulders somehow illuminated her._

_Ariel was crouched in a tree, clinging onto two branches like one would hold onto two rungs of a ladder, watching the young girl in her state of suspended animation. Like any child looking to woo another, he had already planned out his mischiefs for the day. One involved stealing a rather tasty looking pie from the nearby bakery and giving it to Helena in a display of friendship… next, a nice polished brass necklace that the store owner had pilfered off of a man for almost nothing anyway, and thus Ariel would be the hand of karma… a shiny polished rock he had found by the river, next a colorful purse he had woven himself… next a kiss?_

_Cunning, brave, and oh-so-handsome Ariel might only be about eleven while Helena was the mature age of fourteen, but hey, why should that discourage Ariel in his pursuit for the beauty? Was age a consequence when it came to love? I think not!_

'less of course you're one of those old creeps who serenade the young ladies... _that thought made Ariel shudder slightly, but he shook it off. He had a lady to save! Yes, to save from the terrible pangs of hunger._

_Ariel dismounted gracefully from the tree. At least, it was graceful until he hit the ground, where he stumbled and fell into some bushes. But not to worry, the young knight was still quite ready for his quest._

_He darted stealthily across the field, rolling once just because he could, sneaking and crawling up to the back window of the bakery. One person saw him but that was to be expected… right? Of course._

_He glanced around, no one to be seen in this little remote corner behind the bakery. And in the window, the great prize, worth more than all the gold and silver a donkey could hold. A delicious, freshly baked pie made from hand grown apples. He had tasted a few of the apples themselves… snuck into the orchard, no less, and taken three of the round jewels right from under that tyrant orchard owner's nose (of course he was a tyrant… he wouldn't give a _knight _like _Ariel _a single free apple? Hmph). _

_Victory was so close, Ariel could literally taste it. The smell was almost overwhelming now. A grin on his face, he dropped to his belly and crawled beneath the window, where he righted himself into a crouch, staring upwards at the sill. That is where it rested._

_He hooked his fingers on the sill, nearly whooping when his fingertips brushed the cooled glass of the pie dish. He stood, grabbed the pie and darted into the bushes off to the side, crouching, listening for any indication the pie's absence had been duly noted. With no such indication, he slipped out of the bushes, and walked non-chalantly back over to where Helena lay. The princess was ready for a feast._

_Their next conversation was short and sweet, Ariel proclaiming she looked hungry and asking 'would you like some of this pie my father just bought for me?' Helena looked surprised and turned it down, but when Ariel insisted and handed her the fork he just 'happened' to have in his pocket, well… who could resist the pie's irresistible smell or his unadulterated charm?_

_Well, then there was the little issue when the store owner came out and knocked Ariel on his little backside for stealing and charging him twice what the pie cost or else he'd go to jail, but, well, that's not a particularly relevant part of the story._

_They were both older now… Ariel had matured quite a bit and had manifested into a quiet, studious pupil at the age of fifteen, with an undeniable zeal for knowledge. He drank up everything his tutors had to offer him, and soon he was teaching his tutors… his reasoning skills were frankly uncanny and he had finished his schooling in a mere four years, unlike the six teens normally took to receive a full education. Most started school at twelve and ended at eighteen… Ariel started at twelve and ended at sixteen. _

_At sixteen, he was a tutor, but that lasted for two years before he realized that, although the pay was amazing and the demand for him high, he couldn't stand teaching itself, but rather, he wanted to learn. He delved deep into the sciences, particularly chemistry and biology, and when he had learned all he could learn at his own village, he traveled to the bigger towns where he apprenticed himself under the strict tutelage of the palace educational system for adults… he was readily accepted, his reputation wide-spread._

_Throughout this whole time, he kept in constant contact with Helena. Despite their tumultuous first meeting, they both felt that there was _something _there, although Ariel didn't truly acknowledge the deep nature of the bond until he reached thirteen, Helena sixteen. Up to this time, they had been bound at the hip._

_He told Helena his thoughts, and boldly proclaimed it as love. Helena, who had already decided not to get married due to the fact she wanted to be part of law enforcement and didn't want to be bound by love (ironic, isn't it?) had nearly knocked Ariel's head off, but not before Ariel had kissed her lightly on the lips._

_After that, they did not talk face to face as much as through letters. Ariel was intensely focused on his studies and Helena was apprenticed to the sheriff, repeatedly impressing everyone with her uncanny deductive skills and her emotionless approach to the most heinous crimes. She had tried to convince Ariel to pursue the same path on account of his intelligence, but he was more into science than criminal justice._

_When Ariel came back from the palace education, wizened, sober and quiet, Helena herself approached him. She said she thought that the proclamation Ariel had made to her so many years ago… of how they had always been in love, bonded…. How she thought he had been right and it had taken the years of separation for her to understand. In a roundabout, rigidly logical way of course._

_Ariel was as delighted as he could be (but his years at the palace had tempered his emotions quite a bit), for his love for Helena had never actually waned, and he had agreed fervently with her._

_Which was when Helena gave him the necklace…._

_The necklace had been a pledge of sorts, but the marriage wasn't to be for three years, when Helena finished her training. It had been two years and ten months when Ariel had left…._

Ariel stumbled blindly through the woods, bittersweet memories constantly tearing at him; more deeply than any branch or thorn. The necklace… why had he destroyed it? The symbol of her love to him…? Why had he cast it aside like a disposable keepsake, torn it apart and left it in the dirt for the insects…? He had thrown pearls to pigs, diamonds to dogs, and for what? Some foolish kind of closure? Ariel _had _no closure.

He fell to his knees, clenched his fists, tilted his head back and wailed. A long, low, haunting wail. All of his choices the past years… what did they mean in the long run? _How _had he allowed the book to do this to him?

Before, when he had felt this way, it had taken a simple stroke of the finger across its leather bound malevolence… now… without the book… years of artificially suppressed sorrow crashed down upon him, and he couldn't stand it.

He took a deep breath and screamed at the moon, cursing the darkness, which used to be so comforting… he longed for the light.

He screamed, he cried, he cursed, he wept, his hands clawing at his hair, the branches, the dirt when he finally stood, took a few steps and collapsed, a withering, shivering, shuddering pile of pathetic flesh. Everything… all of it… _God take me! _was all he could think… but of course, God had left him.

He had even left the book in his cave.

He was completely, utterly, and desperately…

Abandoned.


	6. Omen lll Descent of the Archangel

_MEEP. Sorry it took so long to update, I really have no excuse this time since I've had this written for months... a mix of intense laziness and forgetfullness... which is sad, considering this was my favorite chapter to write, followed closely by Feast for the Vain..._

_Sorry about the slight confusion we had last chapter, it was basically establishing Ariel and Helena's relationship more, since that was barely explored at all, and not really necessary for the rest of the story, while beneficial..._

_Another poem at the beginning, for effect and because there is an Interlude here in the album, written by Jacob, not me, since I suck at poetry, although I facepalmed at his pun... he loves stupid puns._

_Reviews encourage me to update faster so if you actually like this whatever-it-is, please review... and if you don't tell me why you don't like it because I love constructive criticism. Flame if you want to, I could use a good laugh._

_**Omen**_

_Once again, drift around,_

_In the void, darkness bound;_

_No escape, a final act,_

_Desperate, just for peace. _

_No end in sight,_

_No place for Light,_

_No beauty, bright;_

_Remove this blight._

_Commit the crime, _

_Find your peace,_

_Life is lime,_

_When you're deceased._

_A single candle,_

_Inside the void,_

_Illuminate,_

_But only just._

**Descent of the Archangel**

_The smile of a demon is the lament of the living._

Ariel lay on the grass, curled tightly into the fetal position. He was past… beyond…. running aimlessly (and getting helplessly lost along the way), screaming his sadness and weeping in the dirt. He was to the point where all he could do is curl up and shiver at every sound. He was quite prepared to die, although God wouldn't hear him for even that one simple request.

All he could think was how alone he was. How abandoned. All of the fame he had gathered meant _nothing_… without the book clouding his judgment he wanted no more of the people he had brought under his dark wings. He wanted to lie alone and perish. That or the warm comfort of another human being….

His old life back.

He hadn't specifically wished for that in years… but now he realized that was all he wanted… his old life, where he was _happy_… incontent, perhaps, but he was happy… with his beautiful fiancée… who might as well have been his wife… his job, his money, his comfort and leisure… here he was exalted as a king, perhaps, with more power, clout, with reign over entire regions of an island…

But without true love…?

Hackneyed, yes, but it was harsh how true it was… he found life meaningless now, without the love of his love.

Is that what the book truly did? Repressed your need for the emotion?

_Which means it strengthens you…. You no longer need such attachments._

The same voice he had heard so many years ago… the one that had first urged him to leave his old life… it was clearer this time, almost completely removed from his own mind, almost as if a human was speaking. He could feel it… the demon was close, wasn't he…?

…Ariel looked up, staring at the moon suspended above him in a casing of black. It was full, oddly bright. Amber. A reflection of a fallen angel's eye.

He blinked slowly when a black bird, perhaps a raven, flew in front of the moon, a black streak that slightly obscured its majesty for the briefest of seconds. When it was out of Ariel's sight, the moon seemed even brighter than before.

Ariel was so entranced by the moon that he didn't look behind him, where leaves were swirling in a circular pattern, but there was no wind, where dust was dancing with the leaves, glowing in the light of the moon. Moondust. He only noticed when the stream whispered past him, leaving the leaves behind, and materializing into a thin sheet of white glass that seemed to lead down from the moon.

Ariel was shocked. It wasn't quite a sheet of glass, more or less a path of shimmering, dancing dust. Although the dust itself moved within its confines, the stream didn't move. It was a writhing path.

Whispers were skipping on the edge of his hearing, wordless proclamations of glory, the voices of angels. Fallen angels.

They weren't glorious or loud, but they were just loud enough. And they were coming from behind him.

Ariel ripped his eyes away from the moonlit path and turned around, looking for the sources of the voices, not quite sure what to feel. He thought he should be afraid, but he wasn't… no, he thought he should be crawling in the dirt again, scared beyond all measure as nature arrayed itself before him, but he was… calm. Utterly calm.

At least, until he turned back toward the moonlight, having found nothing behind him.

There he was.

Not as a vision, not as a voice, not as some phantasm that couldn't be touched… there he was, in the flesh, his smirk just as real as the shocked expression on Ariel's face, his glowing, swaying hair just as tangible as Ariel's auburn locks, his white robe with its golden sash just as solid as the brown religious robes that adorned Ariel. The moonlight his feet were standing on just as firm as the earth beneath Ariel's shaking feet.

Kira, or Mephisto, was standing before Ariel, if not flesh and blood, at least with that illusion. He was even wingless, unlike the pictures of him in the book, where he had magnificent wings splayed out behind him. He was so human yet so undeniably otherworldly.

He jumped. He didn't hover, he didn't fly, he jumped, and landed lightly next to Ariel, his robes settling around him. His eyes were a deep amber, two dark, sharp lights that stood out from the rest of his radiant face. It didn't quite _glow_… per say… his robes did, as well as his hair, but his face was just… perfect.

Ariel gawked at the demon. He was beautiful, oddly human, with a ridiculous likeness to Ariel himself. In fact, the only difference were the demon's… the angel's… _whatever _he was… hair, which was like molten gold somehow shaped into Ariel's hairstyle, his glowing garments, and those eyes. Those _eyes_… they reached into you.

Mephisto smiled. It was actually a smile, a pleasant one, not a smirk. "Speak, my friend. You look… surprised." His head tilted slightly. "You did not think I would come to you? My prophet." Mephisto raised a hand and let three fingers lightly brush Ariel's cheek. The feeling caused Ariel to inhale sharply. It was like being touched by heaven. Ariel almost groaned with frustration when Mephisto broke the brief touch.

Ariel was still incapable of speech. Or movement. He tried to feel afraid but he _couldn't_… he felt completely at ease, yet completely awed, and he didn't know _what _to say.

Mephisto laughed shortly, a splendid sound. Everything about him was enticing. "Do not be afraid to speak to me, Light." Ariel's other name rolling off the creature's tongue… for he was definitely not a man… caused Ariel's heart to beat faster, and a drop of sweat to roll down the side of his face. But not out of fear, out of pure… bliss. He wanted to bury his head in the angel's shoulder and cry from delight, but he was still incapable of moving. He did, however, find his voice. "M-Mephisto…?" His voice sounded horribly thin in comparison to Mephisto's illustrious tones.

"I would prefer you to call me Kira, Light." Mephisto… Kira stepped slightly to the side and slowly, regally circled Ariel, every once in a while brushing his fingers against Ariel's robe, sending shivers through all of the man's extremities. He stopped behind Ariel, standing a few inches from him, his low, soft voice tickling his ear. "You know why I'm here, don't you?" Mephisto's hand came up and gently rubbed Ariel's back, causing him to gasp and arch slightly, away from the foreign but intoxicating touch, his eyes shut from a mixture of raw fear and raw delight.

He was starting to get afraid.

"N-no, my lord, I do not." He gasped the words out as Kira's hand stopped rubbing his back, longing for the touch, but disgusted by it.

"I think you do. Have you not heard about the heaven's wager?"

"…no…. I… I am sorry…"

"Ignorance is nothing to be sorry for… unless you are ignorant of something I truly expected you to know." Light could feel when Kira stepped back away from him, and he hated the feeling.

"…I… wager?"

"On your soul. You were God's favorite, you know." Kira was now walking slowly back into Ariel's line of sight, Ariel himself still frozen in the wake of the angel's speech. "But I have you wrapped around my little finger." Kira turned to face Ariel directly, placed his index finger on Light's sternum, and slowly dragged the filed nail up to underneath his chin, not cutting the skin, but leaving a white trail that tingled oddly. It wasn't a gentle caress, like the others… it was harsh and mocking in a subtle, yet effective way. Light shivered when the angel's index finger hooked itself underneath his chin, forcing it up slightly.

"Everything that has happened to you up to this point was all by my design. All for a singular purpose. To break you. To make you yearn for love, and for pleasure, for company, for what you left behind, when going back is impossible. You can't deny me, Light. I hold all of your desires in my palm." The angel once again slid behind Light, this time resting his hands on the terrified man's shoulders, pulling him back into him. Light's entire back was pressed against the angel's front, and the feeling of it… if bliss could have been spun into a cloth and then wrapped around your shoulders, it might have approached the feeling that shivered through Light. When Kira's tongue skimmed up Light's neck, he arched his back again, suppressing a moan… Kira's tongue on him was as incarnated ecstasy. His first vision so long ago… the vision of the angel serenading him… had been _nothing _compared to this.

"Any form of lust in you will tremble at my touch…" his breath was hot and moist against Light's ear. His voice was sinister and deep, all traces of affability gone. "I can fulfill your every desire, Light…" Once again that _tongue… _trailing up Light's neck, then the angel's lips brushing against his skin ever so lightly as he moved to the other side…. Light was unable to suppress the moan this time…. Then abrupt release as Kira stepped back and allowed Light to collapse onto his hands and knees, the absence so sudden that it left Light shaking. He was breathing heavily, almost panting, hating himself for loving the angel's lavishments but unable to not revel in it…

"I can make your dreams come true. What a couple… me and you, journeying through the night, unraveling all its secrets. I can show you _everything _most vividly. Your desires for knowledge will be sated, your desires for love will be more than occupied, and you'll have more power than you can even imagine over every aspect of humanity… what I ask for in return is that your soul be mine when you die."

A contract? The angel was actually suggesting a contract? "So I'll trade eternity…" Light stood on shaky legs, leaning against the tree, trying to forget the bliss he had felt but failing… "for a few years of…. What…?"

"I am a fallen angel, Light. When I say I will sate your every desire, I mean _every _desire. You will be drowning in more delight than you can handle. All I ask for in return is that you join my courts when you die."

"Join your courts? What do you mean by that?"

_"You will see, chosen one." _

Enigmatic, disturbing, lacing statement, but Ariel's sudden loss of consciousness was not due in any part to the mere statement.


	7. Feast for the Vain

_Pretty sure this is the longest chapter... was the worst and the best to write too. It was really fun for half of it, then it got... tedious. BUT. I MANAGED TO SNEAK BB-KUN INTO IT. YAAAY~3 This story needed some B. Even though he's like... barely in it._

_And that's about it. Enjoy and please review :3_

**Feast for the Vain**

Less a black out and more an abrupt transportation.

Ariel was out for less than three seconds. When he woke, he was in a palace… the same palace he had seen in his dreams. Except he was sitting at the table he had envisioned instead of standing in front of a lounging demon. He wasn't alone, though.

Mephisto's court, apparently… fallen angels sitting in the chairs that were arrayed around the center table, all of them glorious in appearance, putting Ariel's humanity to shame. Directly to his right was a demon with jet black, short hair, deep red eyes and a smirk that appeared perpetual, playing with an extravagant red-tinted silver knife, a bowl of _something _red and sticky in front of him. Something about the demon was reminiscent of Helena….

The rest of the court… fallen angels in all their splendor, in the appearance of men with no blemishes, beautiful and fierce. Ariel's presence didn't seem to phase them, rather they acknowledged him with slight, proud nods and short but flowing hand gestures.

"Welcome to Mephisto's courts, Light." The demon next to him spoke, resting a few fingers on his shoulder. No shock of pleasure like when Mephisto touched him, but he could feel pure warmth radiating from the illusion of flesh… inhuman yet human. "We've heard a lot about you." The sentence was simple, but the way it slid from the demon's mouth… Ariel shuddered, the simple statement turned sinister.

"Have you now…?" he asked, trying (but failing) to maintain some sort of poise or mystery, but trying to act mysterious in front of demons was a feat best left to angels.

"We have," the demon responded with a little nod, then dipped his long, delicate fingers into the red substance and licked it slowly off his fingers, his tongue circling and dancing around the small appendages, the sight almost seductive, and most certainly disturbing.

"Might I ask what you are eating?"

"Merely a precursor to the finer meal," the black haired demon responded. "Strawberry jam."

The answer surprised Ariel. Such a… normal commodity…

"If you're puzzled because I eat such normal fare, you should know there's not only strawberries in it. Human blood too."

The prospect didn't disgust Ariel in the least. For a time he himself had taken up blood drinking.

"The blood of fools… do you know how many idiots actually try to summon and _control _us? I loathe summoners with every fiber of my being but so many of my brethren indulge in pretending to be under their control while plotting an ironic and satisfying demise… I am too prideful to lower myself."

The talk seemed arbitrary, almost normal, the demon talking to Ariel as casually as if he was one of his own, and the mini rant had the air of something secretive, dark… something not to grace the ears of mortals, so Ariel wondered why on _earth _he was being told this.

"You're wondering why I'm telling you this," the demon said as he slowly licked the last drop of red off of his fingers. Ariel raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.

"If you think mind reading is anything, it is nothing… if you weren't here we'd all probably be entertaining ourselves with rituals better left unspoken in front of human ears. As for why I told you that, it's because I was ordered to make conversation, and I offered because humans are intriguing simpletons, and their reactions to even the mundane surprise me. I have no interest in _you _whatsoever. I could care less that you were God's favorite and the…" his voice trailed off when he heard a distant yell.

"Please make way! The host is making his entry!"

Every eye in the room was immediately drawn to the front of the room. Steps wound down from an unseen higher level, glass dragons curling around the banister and pitch black railings in an almost airless display, the stairs themselves a pure white marble.

What was most magnificent though, was Mephisto himself when he started descending the staircase.

He was completely different than when Ariel had first seen him. He had been amazing then, but _now…._

He had finished his regal descent down the stairs and he stood before the crowd, hands clasped pompously behind his back, his head high and a malicious glint in his eye. A blood red cape flowed back behind him like water, as if the remnant's of the blood of the Red sea spilled elegantly from the emerald brooch that was attached to the demon's shirt. If if could be called a shirt. A splendid tunic, gold and silver interlaced directly into the fine, white leather which draped over his shoulders, silver platelegs… almost like armor but much more elegant, subtle carvings of Biblical scenes etched directly into the metal. A thing, glowing chain around his neck, nothing like Ariel had ever seen on earth, it almost seemed to hover, as if it was made of pure white light, a drop of blue, plausibly an aquamarine, suspended at the bottom of the arch. Mephisto's eyes were no longer a deep, contemplating amber, but a fiery red that complimented his now silvery hair with stunning clarity, which flowed and curved past his ears, poised in perfect array above his relaxed shoulders. The angel's robe he had been wearing before did no justice to his fierce beauty… he looked like an incarnation of the war god Ares, only in a finer form.

Everyone at the table stood in unison, backed from their chairs and dropped to their knees, their voices rising, a demonic chorus proclaiming their allegiance. The words were not ones no human could understand, but any human would feel the power spoken in the words… the power of the most binding kind. Ariel himself was glued to his seat, unable to do anything but just stare at the creature.

It _wasn't _the attire, or his otherworldly appearance, it was how his _essence _permeated every fiber of everything on Ariel's body, and even if he could bring himself to take his eyes off of Kira, he would still feel everything he was feeling now. His presence was a pressure, bearing down on Ariel, and his stunning appearance didn't begin to affect Ariel as much as that _pressure _did.

"Everyone is here, I see. The feast may soon begin." Laced within the words was a silent acknowledgement of the reverence he was being shown, and at that the demons once again took their seats.

"Vanity," he said as he stepped forward, unclasping the cape and letting it fall to the floor in a pile of red with a slight glint of green hidden in the folds… he almost seemed more intimidating without the most pompous part of his attire… "we celebrate, my _favorite _of sins." He purred the word favorite.

He sat gracefully at the edge of the table and motioned for the demon on his right hand to stand; he was similar to the demon next to Ariel, except he had a heavier build and shifty blue eyes; also, less flowing hair, more structured. "Ariel, you will take the place of Teru. I'm assuming he has no problem with this?" It was a command, with no inflection of a question behind the superficial tone.

Teru bowed as he stepped away from the chair. "Of course not." He walked toward Ariel, his face expressionless, Ariel still unable to move.

"Come, Light," he said, his real name once again falling from the lips of the demon… enough to make Light stand and walk toward him.

He sat, trembling at being so close to the demon. The pressure was almost unbearable.

"Relax, Light. You are an honored guest here." Kira let his fingers brush across Light's cheek, who gasped at the sudden, unexpected touch, but the pressure was immediately relieved.

"I apologize, it has been a while since a human has been in my courts. I forgot how weak your souls are."

He didn't take offense. How could he?

"How do you like my courts?" he asked with a slight smirk as he let his eyes wander across the room, not resting on any of the guests in particular. "Did you expect red-skinned, ugly creatures with gangly wings, stupid sawed off horns sticking from their heads, twisted, unrecognizable faces and black claws attached to knotted hands?" Kira laughed. The sound was enough to make Ariel shudder.

"No, my friend… fallen angels are just as beautiful as those that dwell above. We merely have free will and are not bound by the laws of some God." With that, he snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, several people came walking out. Actual humans, not the splendid demons who sat in the seats.

But the people… they were… Light's stomach heaved when he saw them. They had gray, dead flesh, lifeless, bloodless complexions, pale eyes, watered down blue or pure, cloudy white, gray hair draped over their thin frames. They were carrying silver trays with wine, which the quickly and efficiently gave to all the guests, but….

"Do their appearances bother you?" Mephisto grabbed the collar of one of the servants who walked by, then grabbed a handful of the rough material their clothes were made of. Light shrank back in disgust… it was like looking at a walking corpse, one who didn't acknowledge you in the least although it appeared to be aware.

"These are not true people. These are soulless lives," he said as he released the creature. "This is what happens to people when they try to summon us." He spat. "I'm sure Beyond talked to you about them, at least a little…?"

"Beyond… the jam demon?"

Kira barked a laugh. "Yes, the jam demon." At this time, it was almost like a normal table, talking and laughing among the guests. Light and Kira seemed almost removed from the chaos.

"Anyway, that's not important…" he said. He rapped his knuckles on the table, this time four beautiful women walked out of the door. Silk clothes that swirled around them, blonde and brunette hair that hung a few inches past their bare shoulders, seductive movements and winks. Two walked over and circled the table, every move oozing of sensuality in an odd and lustful dance, the other two dancing with each other with the same demeanor in an open area to the left of the soon-to-be diners. A few turned to watch the dance, but most continued talking.

Kira shrugged. "Some of the demons maintain an odd desire for human women. None of these harlots know who they are dancing for… they think we are merely rich bureaucrats from somewhere or another… this is my earthly castle. To go to my other abode… you'd have to be dead for that." Kira laughed and picked up his glass. "A toast, my friend?"

Light had been watching the dance, an intricate, entertaining one, to be sure, but not… _otherworldly. _His humanity found it pleasurable, but the rest of him longed for Mephisto's invigorating touch…

He turned to Mephisto and nodded, picking up the glass the servant had delivered to him. "A toast." They clinked glasses and drank; the wine was amazing. Otherworldly was turning into a convenient word. It had a taste that warmed your mouth and buzzed pleasurably as it went down, resting in your stomach with an emanating heat. It didn't burn, like tequila… it didn't have the cool burn of vodka either. It was… like drinking the perfectly warmed cider, which stayed that way even as it drained down your throat.

Mephisto took only a small sip and seemed uninterested in the drink; no wonder, he probably had it every day. "Everything you look at, Light… could be yours. Do you remember how you were feeling but a half hour ago, ready to kill yourself, desperate for satisfaction…?"

Light remembered. Only too well. But in this setting, it was impossible to feel that envy… he felt almost utterly content.

"What you're feeling now, awe and wonder from the setting, pleasure from the wine and women, is _nothing _compared to what you will experience if you sign your soul over to me after you die. And until then, you will experience this…" His hand made a slight gesture to motion toward everything around them, "for the rest of your life. Sign your soul over to me, and you can have all of this for yourself for eternity."

A low chuckle from one of the demons next to him. "He'd be a fool to refuse."

Another. "The human has to even _think _about this offer?"

"Come with me, my little ones. Let's revel for the free!" Mephisto stood up suddenly, his voice loud, carrying throughout the entire room, causing even the dancers to stop and stare. "Raise your glass and praise the fact how easy life can be!"

"All hail Kira!" The demons stood with with a rousing shout, one that Ariel could understand. He was compelled to stand, which he did, throwing his fist up into the air like the rest of them.

"Let the wine and women flow, let your pleasures rule you, cast away morality and any such chains. You are _free, _Ariel. Absolutely _free!" _Kira spread his arms and laughed. He laughed deeply, and if Ariel hadn't been drunk with the wine and the atmosphere, he would have heard the malicious undertones.

Instead, he joined in with the laughter, which spread throughout the whole room, the laughter one not of joy… but of victory. Scorning God. Even the harlots shrank back slightly, the laughter scaring them. But Ariel laughed with them, laughed with them all….

It had been an interesting night… one filled with wrongs that seemed oh-so-right through the colored wineglasses and the occasional touches Mephisto would bestow upon him… one filled with reverie and boisterous sinful pleasures, incarnated hedonism and satisfaction of the most basic lusts. At the end of it all… three hours later… Ariel was exhausted but still tingling with every sin that raged through his veins. What was left of his conscience was obliterated.

But… there hadn't been a point where he was completely satisfied… a fact he didn't really care about, but a fact that was the key in the short time he stayed after the party.

Only Beyond, Light and Mephisto remained. The harlots had left after most of the guests had been sated, and most of the demons had transcended back to their own realm, forsaking their flesh. Beyond was merely a curious spectator who had nowhere else he _really _wanted to go, and Light and Kira still had business to attend to.

They were sitting at the table across from each other, Mephisto no longer in his silver and gold attire, but back in his what now seemed simple angel's cloak. He was still amazing in it.

"So I'm assuming you accept the contract?" Mephisto's voice hadn't for once second lost its seductive charm.

Ariel was fuzzy headed, not thinking clearly, his judgment clouded by the afterglow of aberrant pleasures… but he could still respond. "I think the contract is a good one. One variation I would like to make, though."

Mephisto stilled, the last line one that seemed to unsettle him at least slightly. His voice was a low hiss. "What would that be?"

"My soul will only be yours…" Light leaned lackadaisically against the armrest, trying to act confident when he was really terrified at proposing a change…. "if, at any point, I am so content I wish to remain there forever."

The silence was heavier than the pressure Light had first felt when Mephisto had shown himself in his entertaining-house-guests glory. Mephisto's expression was stone. Malevolent stone.

"I give you the kind of offer that no human could possibly refuse." His voice was a whisper now, past a hiss… the kind of whisper that spoke more than any amount of shouting. "And you demean me by bargaining."

Light was shaking, inside and out, but he couldn't let himself be strong armed by the red-eyed monster. "…I do not wish to demean you. It is only that I only accept this because I think I will be fully content. I thought that leaving Helena and my old village would fix everything… it didn't. I don't want to fall into the same trap with this and then have signed my soul over for nothing if it turns out I do not feel content."

Mephisto was silent, but you could feel anger radiating out from him. It wasn't that big of a deal… after all, Mephisto could easily make the boy so content he would never wish to leave… mainly by indulging the boys deepest desires and giving him what he wanted so badly from Mephisto himself… but it was beneath him to be with a human in such a way. Pride meant more to him than a single soul.

Then again, this soul was intertwined with his pride.

Mephisto calmed, realizing the offer barely changed anything… only made the dance more complex. The dancers were closer now, the music speeding up, the moves becoming elaborate… but all the more beautiful it was for that.

Mephisto extended a hand.

"I accept."


	8. On the Coldest Winter's Night

_Haha for updating! Sorry guys, I've been slacking off... and don't have many more chapters prewritten so the end that is not really the end is coming soon... so... yeah. *dies*_

_ANYWAY. Enough reviews might encourage me to finish it *hint hint*_

**On the Coldest Winter's Night**

_He didn't know how he ended up here again…_

_He only knew it felt better than anything…_

_Lying there in her arms, as her hands ran gently through his hair and stroked his cheek, a touch more loving than any Mephisto could have ever shown him, her human… wonderfully human heat seeping past his cold skin into his flesh…_

_He almost regretted every decision he had made that night in _his _courts..._

_Two hours earlier…_

Ariel walked dazedly across the drawbridge, still buzzing from the events that had bombarded him…

He was away from the garish charms of the castle, its glowing halls and its angelic residents… he needed peace to contemplate a decision he had just made.

Deal with a demon.

He just walked. When the soft _thunk_s of feet hitting old, wet wood turned to the crunching of dirt beneath his leather shoes, he just kept walking, following the road. He had no idea where he was, but that didn't matter… all he had to do was find a village and he would be accepted…

But he didn't want to be accepted by humans anymore.

He wasn't sad, exactly, not regretting his decision. He still remembered how _good _the sins had felt…

But he wasn't absolutely sure. And when it came to making deals with inhuman beasts like that devil Mephisto, it was usually a good idea to be absolutely sure.

So he walked and thought, occasionally glancing up at the moon, as full as ever. He never had been scared of the dark… and walking during night relaxed him.

It was cold. Winter. A few snowflakes drifted down from the sky, lonely, nesting themselves in the blades of grass around Ariel, melting before they could even have a chance to garnish the green with white.

Then again, what did it matter, being dark.

Ariel wasn't really sure _what _he felt right now, only…

Footsteps. Quiet, calm footsteps. Slow and deliberate, paced and poised. Not Mephisto. No, not any of the demons…

….Ariel kept walking, entering the darker, thicker portions of the forest, still on the path. There was…

"….Light."

And he responded to the word by freezing totally, several thoughts whipping through his head at once.

One. It was dark, the height of night, nearing midnight, the darkest, most sinister time of said night.

Two. No one in their right mind should be out right now.

Three. Ariel was not in his right mind.

Four. That meant someone else who was not of their right mind had said the word.

Five. It was someone who knew him.

Six. It was someone who knew him well, because Light was a very personal name.

Seven. The voice was a female's voice.

Eight. He knew the voice.

Nine. The voice was a female's voice he hadn't heard in too many years.

And ten wasn't a thought, but action after freezing, melting the restraints around his legs and turning to stare Helena right in her face.

The crackling fire waltzed in front of the two, reaching toward the moon and slicing through specific sections of night, radiating a harsh heat. They were back at Helena's camp… yes, she had been there long enough to make a camp.

Ariel was sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the fire from his old lover, who had barely changed at all. Same complexion, same wild, long black hair, same calm, uncaring demeanor that had emerged a few years after their first meeting.

Helena… what had entranced Ariel about Helena was the fact she was so… _emotionless_, yet so full of wit, intelligent, and really, the emotionlessness was an effective mask. She was capable of love, of hate, of everything in between, she only cast it aside when it came to her façade. She was almost inhuman that way, but that was what Light loved about her. Light was a passionate person who had tended to expression his passions quietly; Helena was a person who pretended to have no passions at all. Only in private did she show any tenderness at all… the amount she had shown him the night before he had left had been rare for her; but she had sensed his distress and had wanted to placate him.

Her _manner _was almost… _genderless. _She displayed no tendencies attributed to either of the genders; almost robotic.

She hadn't changed at all in that respect neither, and she showed him no pity or warmth, or any indication of missing him.

"Where were you? What have you been doing all this time?" It wasn't frantically spoken, but calculated, calm, voice of lithium.

"I… Helena, I…"

"Please Light, answer the question." Her eyes were dark mirrors.

"I… I was… I wanted knowledge… I wanted it for _us_…"

"You wanted it no more for me than you wanted it for that annoying neighbor behind us. You can't lie to me." Still emotionless. A small whisper of wind tickled her hair, but her eyes were never completely covered; black, dark deep mirrors that made Light shrink.

"I…" He had never told Helena about the book, and he never would. How could he tell her _that?_

"It was the book, wasn't it? You're not just following Kira… you've turned _into _Kira."

Light was taken aback by her knowledge of the book. But he couldn't portray his surprise. "Book? What _book? _You think I'm _Kira?_" Light laughed then, a forced one, but amiable enough. "A demon from fairytales?" He laughed again. "I assure you Helena, I'm not Kira."

"…please." Helena said as she looked into deeply into his eyes, twisted and writing into Light's brain and punching through the tissue to his very _soul… _"Call me Lawliet here."

"…call you Lawliet? Helena, that's a…"

"A male's name. I know. But I could care less right now. It feels more right." Genderless. Or at least not caring at all.

"…very well, Lawliet…" the name sounded foreign on his tongue. "First of all, what _book?_"

"Oh, I'm not quite sure." The contemplative notes in her voice portrayed an easy mockery. "Perhaps the book you bought from the merchant?"

"Lawliet, I'm sorry, but I have no idea what…"

"You're Kira," she said with a cool tone, smiling ever so slightly. "I knew what had happened when I first walked into the house and found you were gone."

Light took in a breath and leaned back. "Then pray tell, elaborate. What do you think happened to me?"

Helena looked directly into Light's eyes, causing him to turn away from the two piercing mirrors… he couldn't look into those eyes and lie. It was impossible.

"I'll admit, at the very first I didn't realize the connection that old tome had to your disappearance… I thought it had more to do with the traders and the fact you had probably learned some obscure piece of knowledge you wanted to verify… but when you weren't back in a week... you don't go through law school as long as I have and study the corrupted thing that _is _the human mind without understand certain things about it. One such thing being if you are on the brink of a tempting but ultimately destructive decision, it takes less than you think to push you over the edge." Helena was still staring at Light, even if she couldn't see his eyes. "You fell because of the mystery of evil…" Helena stood and walked over to Light, kneeling next to him and smiling. "I could care less that you left. I also have as little interest in morals as you do. I only went into law enforcement because it was entertaining. What I do not like…" Helena's hand turned Light's head toward hers, gently but with an authority Light could not ignore, "is that you think yourself almost a god ."

Light was aghast. He didn't think of himself a god! He voiced the opinion. "I do _not _think of myself as a _god_, Helena!"

"Oh, but you do… you don't think I've heard all about you from the locals?" Helena's voice was low and taunting, but still emotionally cold. "A prophet who's come from heaven to save us all… an angel who has diminished its beauty to entrance humans into their deadly dance…" Helena was so close now her warm breath washed over Light's face. "A _god_ in disguise…" Helena was smiling like a snake as she slithered one hand up his side, causing Light to shudder. "You egotistical narcissist... you hold the lives of these people in your hands because of what? Deception and sins. And you embrace the persona."

Light refused to believe what she said. He wasn't egotistical, he was merely showing the people the way he had become enlightened to…! He had accepted their ways, and had shown himself as an important icon in such society. He had converted many, and admittedly, had killed those he could who refused, but wasn't it all justified in the grand scheme of things…?

That was something he had never dwelled on… the killing.

Light considered himself a prophet. He would say that much. If people didn't accept the truth he delivered, didn't they deserve death…? Death by his hand, swift and merciless, for if they rejected once they didn't deserve another chance.

Truthfully, the murder had just melted in with the rest of his acts, and he hadn't considered it particularly significant… he had considered bathing his hands in blood before first indulging in the occult, but after… after, it all made so much sense…

What was wrong with what he had been doing on the island? Nothing.

And if Helena couldn't see that…

"Light." Helena was still leaning close to Light, a shadow of her smirk on her face, her hand still on his side.

Light looked at his old love apprehensively. "Helena…?"

"I know the one thing that will turn you from this path you're on. And if you push me to it, you won't like it."

Lawliet then kissed him.


End file.
